School has been out for 18 days and my head hasn’t exploded. I’d say that’s a win.
Of course, this is not for my kids’ lack of trying. They have given it their all, what with the constant bickering and sometimes kicking. There may have also been biting, but I haven’t confirmed they were actual teeth-marks.
It wasn’t that long ago that they loved each other. I remember it! I don’t remember a lot (*waves at Ambien*), but I do remember that there was once affection and kindness where now there is none.
My mom tells me this is normal; that because my sisters were so much older than me, I was like an only child and I didn’t have the benefit of squabbling with a sibling. I do, however, remember two of my sisters fighting. I was 5, they were 18 and 20. I don’t recall much other than our toy-fox terrier taking a bite out of one of their ankles and there weren’t a lot of fists being thrown. Scratches and hair-pulling, yes. Punches, no. At least it was a fair fight.
In my house, with an average-size 13 year old and a 10 year old who can still get into amusement parks for free, my daughter has an unfair advantage; at least in the height-department. My son makes up for this with his skilled mind tricks though. Like when he purposely falls over his sister’s foot and claims she tripped him.
He also knows exactly how to push her buttons and how to irritate her with maximum efficiency and little effort. Just for the record, he inherited that trait from his dad. Last night, my husband asked me out of the blue, “So, would you be mad at me if I tried bath salts? My guy, stirring up trouble since 1971.
People, please tell me that the arguing will stop someday and my kids will love each other again. If you feel like being generous, tell me that day will be soon.
My mental health is depending on it.